


Impossible Monsters

by Tabithian



Series: Impossible Monsters [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Supernatural
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moon is high and Gotham's monsters human and otherwise are out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impossible Monsters

The moon is high and Gotham's monsters human and otherwise are out. The Bats are out too, eyes only for the human monsters, and Jason. Jason's got other targets in mind. That, and - 

"Daddy Bats know you're out here?" he asks, turning to the shadows at the end of the roof and the figure hiding there.

Thin, pale. A dark bruise along one cheek, stretching up to the bridge of his nose. Cuts and scratches on his arms, more hidden by the gauntlets. "I climbed out my bedroom window." Dry, sarcastic as fuck. Probably the truth, too, given who's talking.

Jason rolls his eyes. Damn idiot shouldn't even be out at all, and especially not on a night like this. Bruce hasn't learned anything, and it's pissing him off all over again because it's _Bruce_. He's supposed to be better than this, goddammit.

"Thank you."

"...What?"

An annoyed huff. "You saved my life, Jason." 

And. No. That hadn't been the goal that night. It may have been a side-benefit - not Jason's, that's for damn sure because the brat sought him out - but Bruce hadn't known, hadn't even guessed, that's how damn good the shapeshifter had been. And there's some fan-fucking-tastic irony there, the Replacement being replaced.

"I killed a damn shapeshifter, Pretender, that's all." 

The Pretender actually laughs, like he doesn't realize all the ways Jason could kill him right now. (Except for the part where he's a Bat, they _always_ know.) It's more like he doesn't think Jason would, and Bruce has clearly been slacking if the Pretender doesn't see him as a very real threat. 

Jason turns, gun in hand, and fires off a shot. He smirks when the Pretender does a pretty little flip and lands in a crouch, one hand braced on the rooftop for balance. The landing's off, little bastard's still hurt, but he's a Bat too, and it's not like any of them were all that smart to begin with.

The Pretender scowls at him. "You're an ass." 

Jason shrugs, holstering his gun. "Never said I wasn't, Pretender. Now go the hell away, I've got work to do, and I don't think Daddy Bats is going to take kindly to you hanging around me. Apparently he thinks I'm a bad influence and all."

The Pretender stands, eying Jason warily. "Need help?"

Jason gives him a sharp look for that. "This isn't something you want to get involved in, Pretender." Sometimes Jason wishes he hadn't, but. If Bruce isn't going to do it, isn't going to go after Gotham's real monsters - and God knows Gotham's rife with the little fuckers - then someone has to. It might as well be him. He's fucked up enough as it is, this isn't going to mean much in the end. 

"Is it like that thing?" the Pretender asks, coming closer, like Jason didn't just try to shoot him. "What did you call it, a shapeshifter?"

Jason sighs, deeply aggrieved. "Pretender - "

"What was that, Jason? It wasn't a meta, or an alien." He frowns. "...Some kind of experiment?"

Jason laughs, God, how fucking blind are they? They deal with the impossible every goddamned day of their lives - aliens, people with super powers, fucking mad scientist experiments gone wrong, but give them something like this, a goddamn shapeshifter and they just don't _get it_. 

Their first instinct is to think meta, or alien, or even genetic experiment, not. Not _this_. They think things like this, like shapeshifters, pop up to eat your face because the planets are aligning or an ancient prophecy is coming true. Something dependent on dramatic events instead of thinking of them as being more like a run of the the mill bank robber or mugger, and that 's the problem right there. 

And maybe Jason would still be like them, if he hadn't run into the fucking Winchesters, a family with the worst kind of luck he'd ever seen backed up by his kind of crazy. He was only with them for a short time, but it was a crash course in realizing just how fucking stupid he, they all were, to forget there was a reason people told scary stories. Why so many myths and legends were full of fucking terrifying things that didn't give a shit if you didn't know any better. They'd rather kill you than hear an apology, they wanted you fucking dead for whatever reason, and most of those reasons involved you being dinner.

"Things that go bump in the night, Pretender. Monsters. _Real_ monsters, not like (fucking _Joker_ ) the sickos you guys go after." 

Some that came over with the first settlers, seeking new hunting grounds. Some that originated here, all of them dangerous, all of them preying on humans too stupid to protect themselves, that kind of knowledge, belief lost to time and man's own arrogance. (Why be afraid of the dark when you can turn on the lights with the flick of a switch to drive the shadows back? Out of sight, out of mind, right?)

"Trust me, Pretender, you really don't want to know." Jason still doesn't, but it's not like he can close his eyes and pretend everything's normal, fine. There are things out there the goddamned Batman and his little brood don't even know about, and. 

"Go home," he says, growling a little. "Or not. I don't fucking care, just get the hell out of here."

"Jason - "

Jason rounds on him, gun out because he's got work to do and the Pretender just isn't getting it. Jason may have saved his life, but it's not as though he'd set out to do that. He'd gone after the shapeshifter that had been targeting people in Gotham, moving on from shelter volunteers to night security guards and police officers until it had grabbed the Pretender. God only knows what it would have done if it had gotten to Bruce and from there the fucking Justice League. 

Things like the shapeshifter usually don't think much past the next victim, the next target, but this one. It was like the damn thing was having fun, _playing_ with its prey, trying to see how much damage it could do. Breaking down the lines of trust built into the roles its targets had taken on, just because it _could_.

Gotham always seemed to draw the craziest of the crazies in its human population, why should her monsters be any different? 

"Go home." Jason fires, once. Warning shot, second one maybe, but it's all the Pretender's getting from him tonight. If he keeps pushing it - 

The Pretender looks at him. Looks at the smoking bullet hole in the brickwork next to his head. "Ass," he mutters, but there's a thread of _something_ in it that isn't annoyance, or anger. Something almost like, Jesus, _fondness_ , and that's. There's no reason for that to be there, Jason has given the little shit every reason to feel the exact opposite.

"Next one's got your name on it, Pretender." Not the most original threat, but it seems to get through to the brat. Or maybe he's just done being exceptionally stupid, who knows.

"This isn't over." The Pretender says, like that's supposed to, what? Scare Jason? _Ha_. Good luck with that.

"You've been hanging around Bruce too long, Pretender," Jason says. "You're starting to sound like him."

The Pretender snorts. "Yeah? Well you sound like something out of a bad action movie, so." He shrugs, mouth curving slightly as he fades back into the shadows (goddamned _Bat_ ) and disappears.

"Fucking hell," Jason mutters. Looks up at the moon, full and bright, heavy in the sky, calling her monsters out to play. He grins, sharp, because he's one of her kids too, and he plays a hell of a lot rougher than they ever could.


End file.
